Weasley Sorting
by potterheadproblems
Summary: Fred and George, the infamous Weasley twins, being sorted into Gryffindor during their first year. I OWN NOTHING!


"Weasley, Fred."

Fred stepped away from the thin group of students and lifted himself onto the stool in front of the Great Hall. He grinned at George somewhat nervously as McGonagall lowered the old, tattered Sorting Hat over his eyes.

 _Let's get introductions out of the way. I'm Fred._

"Another Weasley. You lot breed faster than rabbits."

 _I've got to be honest, Hattikins, I don't really mind where you put me as long as you don't even think about separating me and George. If you do, we're both coming at you with a pair of scissors._

"Certainly stubborn, I can see that much. Brave, no doubt, and willing to stand up for a friend. You would make a rather good Hufflepuff, if not for your arrogance."

 _I'll take that as a compliment. Not to be rude, but could you cut the wise talk? I'm hungry._

 _"_ I can see now, yes. You're cunning, a bit clever, quite the Slytherin. However, your courage and bravery stand against your ambition, so let's go ahead and put you with your brothers in… GRYFFINDOR!"

Fred was beaming when the Hat was lifted off his head. He hopped off the stool and made his way to the Gryffindor table, where Bill and Charlie were whooping and Percy was grinning. He took a seat next to Bill, making sure to save an empty chair beside him, and glanced at George, who offered him a weak smile. Throughout the train ride, they had been fearing a separation of houses, ever since their Hogwarts letters had been arrived, in fact. Their entire family had been in Gryffindor, though it did little to calm their nerves.

George had been having a silent conversation with his twin when he realized a nearby first year, still waiting to be sorted, was jabbing him in the ribs. He whipped around and realized that McGonagall was tapping her foot and raising her eyebrows.

"Weasley, George," she said slowly, likely not for the first time. George smirked and hurried to the stool his brother had been sitting in moments ago, and, like Fred, the Sorting Hat was lowered on his head, flattening his wild red hair.

 _Just so you know, I'm going to Gryffindor whether you like it or not. If you put me somewhere else, Fred's going to drag me into his common room anyway, so just get it over with now._

 _"_ That is quite the ambition, Mr. Weasley. Much like your twin. Ah, you are very alike. Cunning, yes, and a bit more clever, I might add, suited for Ravenclaw…"

 _Come off it. I don't know anything more than Fred does. I should know, we had the exact same marks on those tests mum made us take for homeschooling. Failures all around, I reckon she's a bit concerned about our grades._

"I am not exactly referring to your schooling, Weasley. However, if that's really the way you feel, I am going to take your brother's threats to heart, so it had better be… GRYFFINDOR!"

George felt a huge wave of relief crash over him as the Sorting Hat was pulled off his head and he was greeted by the hollers and applause of the Gryffindors. Fred had scrambled to his feet, and George ran over to fling his arms around his brother's neck.

Fred sat with his arm still slung over George's shoulders, and, poking each other and snickering as they engaged in hurried, whispered conversations, they watched as Miller Yetti, the boy that had poked George to get his attention, was sorted into Slytherin, Jane Yulan was sorted into Ravenclaw, and Evan Zander was put in Hufflepuff.

Once the first years were sitting at their house tables, Professor Dumbledore stood, his arms folded behind his back patiently, as the Great Hall quieted almost immediately. He made a short, fast speech about rules and banned items, to which Fred and George paid no mind, uttered a few nonsense words, and, with a quick flick of his wrist, the previously empty platters filled with steaming food. The twins felt their mouths watering at the roasted turkey, mashed potatoes, and fresh beans as they began to pile their plates high, earning a chuckle from Charlie across the table.

"Y'know, Freddie," George said through a mouthful of food, swallowing and looking around the Great Hall happily. "Something tells me we're going to like it here."


End file.
